Page 42 of The Pureblood Princess
His words make that image flash before her eyes: a silver dagger buried to the hilt in his shoulder, his eyes wide with surprise as blood drips from the wound.
Theodore must see the concern in her gaze, for he lifts his hands and cradles her face tenderly. “That night, the hunter caught me by surprise. The silver weakened me, made me slow and susceptible. But that won’t ever happen again.” His lips meet her forehead, and she closes her eyes and relishes his touch. Too soon, he’s pulling away.
“I’ll bring him home soon,” the earl says from where he stands near the doors. His attention causes the other men to turn and look at her, and Nadia’s cheeks heat under their gazes.
“I look forward to your return, my lord.” She bows her head marginally, and then the footmen open the doors, and the group of men pour outside and down the steps into the courtyard. Theodore is the last to go, and he casts a warm smile over his shoulder before the doors close behind him, leaving Nadia standing in the quiet foyer in a patch of afternoon sunlight.
Theodore does not return thatevening, nor the next. On the third evening, after enjoying dinner and tea with the rest of the Rosetti family, Nadia retires to her bedchamber for the night.
The walls are painted midnight blue, and black draperies obscure the tall windows, allowing only a glimpse of moonlight to filter through. The polished floorboards creak softly underfoot as Nadia crosses the room to her vanity.
Antique candelabras stand in the corners and upon the heavy wooden dresser, their flickering candles casting a warm glowabout the room. One small candle burns atop the vanity, and as Nadia sits before it and looks into the mirror, the dancing light sends shadows across her pale face.
The massive stone fireplace stands against one wall behind her. It’s dormant for the night, drafty and unlit, and the room is cold because of it. Amélie always lights the fire while Nadia takes dinner in the dining room, but she’s not seen her lady’s maid since early in the day. Even now, as she begins to release her updo and drop the pins onto the vanity, glancing at the door in the mirror, no one knocks or enters.
Where is she?
Once she’s finished and her dark hair falls loose around her face, she runs her fingers over her head and massages her scalp. It’s tender from the tight pins, and she’s grateful to be free of them for the evening.
Theodore?she calls out in her mind, finding it easier than ever to reach out to him without saying a word. Now that she drinks blood daily, her strength and stamina are fully improved, and what used to be a struggle for her is easy as breathing.
Good evening,iubit. I miss your voice.
Theodore’s voice in her head comforts her, and she smiles to herself as she starts to undress, struggling with the laces on her corset without Amélie’s assistance.
I miss all of you, she says in return, just as her corset finally falls free, leaving her standing in a lightweight chemise.
Glancing at herself in the mirror, her dark hair drifting past her elbows, contrasting with the white shift, makes her long suddenly for Theodore. If he were here, she’d want him to pull the chemise over her head and make love to her on the floor in front of the fire—after lighting it, of course.
Where are you? Did you capture the thief?
I’m afraid not. We followed what we believed to be his trail into the hamlet, but there it was lost. Father wanted to spendtime meeting with the villagers, ensuring they’re prepared for the winter. I can only hope to serve them so well someday.
Of course you will. You’ll be beloved by all your people, she says, and it’s true. Theodore has a gentleness about him, a compassion and empathy she’s not known in many men—or women, for that matter.Are you in the hamlet tonight?
We are. We’re staying in a little inn you’d adore. The only thing missing is you.
His words send a shiver over her skin and a longing singing through her veins. With a sigh, she traces her fingertips down her body and closes her eyes, imagining the touch to be his.
What would you do with me if I were there? In your bed?
When his voice echoes in her head a moment later, it’s harsher somehow, edged with want.
I’d ravish you until everyone in this inn heard you scream.
Her hand slips lower, to that spot between her legs. But then a knock sounds at the door, and Nadia gasps, startled from her reverie.
“My apologies, miss,” the maid says, ducking her head apologetically as she steps into the room. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Clearing her throat, Nadia goes to the armoire and opens it up to find her nightgown. “You should wait for permission before entering,” she says, feeling equally embarrassed and nettled to have been walked in on.
“You are absolutely right, miss.” The maid lowers her head again, and as Nadia pulls her nightgown from the armoire, she realizes she’s never seen this maid before.
“Who are you?” she asks.
“Camille, miss. I work in the kitchens, but Amélie asked me to assist you this evening. She’s been in bed with a fever since this afternoon.”
Well, that explains it, then.
